Chapter Thirty-Two

Michaela

 

The phone in my pocket rang with Moira’s ringtone. “Hey, Mo.”

“Happy New Year! I remembered the clock this time.”

“Yep, it’s 12:02 here. What are you doing?” I paced away from Lincoln.

I couldn’t stay still on the phone unless I sat. Or lay down.

“Rick is here. He brought LOTR and Chinese food.”

I grinned. “Sounds fun.” And paused by the fireplace.

“Are you binge-ing popcorn alone?”

“No…”

She squealed.

“Hi, Moira,” he said, closer than he had been. I glared at him.

“Put him on!”

“No.”

“Hi, Lincoln!” she yelled, and I thrust the phone far from my ear.

He plucked it out of my hand. “So nice to meet you finally,” he said to her.

“Give that back,” I growled, grabbing his arm.

It didn’t budge.

“Yes, she’s flailing at me now,” he replied.

Blew me a kiss and kept stepping out of my reach.

God, the things she could be saying. “Lincoln, don’t make me play dirty.”

He put the sofa between us. “Moira, this has been lovely, but I better hand the phone back before Michaela knees my balls. Yeah, she’s got daggers in her eyes. You, too.” He dropped my phone on the sofa and darted for the door.

I picked it up. “How about you put your boyfriend on and I tell him you hate baseball?”

She gasped. “That’s mean. You wouldn’t.”

“Wouldn’t I?”

“Mic, breathe. You’re sounding crazy. We were only joking around.”

I left the den to shut myself in Harry’s office. If this call was going to last longer than midnight wishes, I needed privacy. “I’m sorry.”

“So. How was your day?”

“Packing heirlooms.”

She made a sympathy sound.

“And sex.”

“Ooo!”

“He’s catnip and Kryptonite, Mo,” I whined.

“As a sex god?”

“As everything. He’s wonderful, the bastard.”

“Then let him be wonderful.”

“You know why I can’t.” I rubbed the tension blooming in the center of my forehead.

“I know why you’re afraid. There’s a difference.” She sighed. “I say live in the present. You can’t control the future and you can’t change the past. Enough with the what-ifs. We can go round and round on this or you can tell the man the whole truth and let him decide. If you have to part after this week, at least you know it’s because he’s not right for you.”

“I don’t know which scares me most anymore.” I sat on Harry’s sofa.

“Doesn’t that say something?”

“Yeah, yeah, Miss Fortune Cookie.”

“Ask yourself one important question before you break the guy’s heart.”

“And that is?”

“Are you better with him or without him?”

“I—”

“Think about it, Mic. Really think about it before you throw away something potentially amazing. It’s a new year, so give yourself a fresh start. Now, I’m going to go finish this champagne with my man and do unspeakable things to him in my bedroom, so you enjoy the rest of the night! That’s a BFF commandment.”

“Sometimes I wonder why I love you,” I grumbled.

She laughed, then hung up.

I set the phone on the cushion next to me and ran my fingers through my messy hair. Tonight was fun until the outside world invaded. Could I get back in the mood?

A knock on the door, then it cracked open. “Safe to enter?”

“Yes.”

Lincoln pushed it open. He’d put his sweater on. “Dishes in the dishwasher.”

“Thanks.”

He stayed by the threshold. “Would you like me to go?” It was written all over him that he didn’t want to, but I respected the question.

“No.” I stood. “Let me drop my phone in my room, then we can pick the next movie.”

A relieved smile. “Okay.” Instead of reversing course, he waited for me to get within reach. “Hey…” His hand on my nape. “If I upset you—”

“You didn’t.” I leaned my face into his wrist. “It’s not easy for me to mix my worlds, but it’s not wrong to say hi to my friend. Did Moira say anything embarrassing?”

“No, we were only teasing you. Nice to put a voice with the name, though.”

I looked up into his kind eyes. All the green in the room flattered him. “I, um…I’m happy to spend New Year’s Eve with you, too. I’d be panicking about what this inheritance means if I was here alone, so thank you, and your mom.”

His thumb caressed my cheek. “You’re welcome. When I wanted a shot, these moments were what I meant. Talking, learning, laughing…exploring each other’s bodies. Maybe we fizzle out eventually, maybe we don’t, but I’m not going to regret making these memories with you.”

Rising on my toes, I kissed him, soft and quick. “You might rot my teeth with all this sweetness, but at least I can afford a dentist now.”

He laughed and we walked out. I closed the door.

Returning to the basement was weird for me. Self-conscious. I wanted to check for signs of what we did. If Abby had to clean the upholstery, I couldn’t look her in the eye again. At least I remembered to take the popcorn bucket to the trash can outside the kitchen door.

Lincoln perused the shelf of movies. “Wouldn’t take Harry for a Fast & Furious fan.”

“Really? He liked anything with cars.” Moving next to him, I pointed to titles. “You’ve got the right Dodge, so I don’t see why it’s a surprise.”

His brows rose. “You’re into the franchise, too?”

“No, but that old Charger is all over the advertising. Hard to miss it unless you live in the middle of nowhere. Every time one of these comes out, there are billboards along the freeways.”

“True. Mine won’t do a wheel-stand like that, nor do I ever want it to.” He put the case for the first film back on the shelf. “So, what do you want to watch?”

I opened the mini-fridge to find hydration.

“Or are you too tired to stay up ‘til 2:00AM.?”

And chose an Italian orange soda. “I don’t know. I’m not normally a night owl. I suppose you are.”

“Depends on your definition. I’m usually up at nine.”

“A.M.?

“Yes, in the morning. Sure, in the early days, there was some sleeping ‘til noon, but now? Like working with Jake’s crew—they’re all family men, so their wives influence the schedule.”

I leaned my hip against the counter. “Speaking of, how is Dylan going to tour when Jen is pregnant?”

He chuckled. “Good question. It’s a U.S. tour in spring and we’re starting in California, but then…”

“Yeah.” I sipped the soda and it really was good. Way better than the commercial brands. “Needing subs for their drummer and bassist? That can really throw the group off.”

He nodded. “Agreed, though we’re the easiest parts to replace for this music, if it comes to that. Jake and Bob’s arrangements aren’t tricky for the rhythm section. I caught on quick.”

“How did they find you?”

“Bob started in the session scene and he’s a workaholic, so he’s plugged into the local musician network. I’m a bit known for being a fast learner with epic timing, so he asked me to audition and the rest is history.”

“Epic timing, huh?”

He grinned. “Like a metronome.” His pride shone through. “You’ve had no complaints.”

“There’s the rockstar ego I was waiting for.” My cheeks warmed. You’d think I’d be past blushing by now. I swigged from the bottle for cover.

Shaking his head, he tugged me forward by the drawstring in my pants. “Confidence comes from positive results.” Then he kissed my forehead and released me. “Let’s sit.”

He ambled down the room toward the sofa.

“No movie?”

“I like talking with you. But—”

“No, it’s okay.”

No spots when the cushions came in view. Thank you. Lincoln plopped on the end with the footrest, so I sat next to him and pulled my legs up Indian-style.

“Theorize with me.”

“O-kay.”

“Say we’re back in L.A. and say we have more nights like these. Then say a certain gentleman wanted to take you out, not merely stay in. Where would that be?”

“Theoretically? Like dinner?”

“Yeah. Something nice.”

“You’re talking about dressing up.”

“Little bit. Me in a collared shirt. You in a flirty dress.”

“Flirty?”

He smiled knowingly. “A dress that makes you feel pretty every time you wear it. There has to be at least one. Maybe the sale was too good to pass up. Maybe a gift from Moira.”

“I’m not a fancy girl.”

“No, but you’re feminine. Doesn’t have to be expensive to be nice.” His eyes narrowed in scrutiny. “Floral print. Subtle. Maybe a sundress. Something a woman would wear to Easter brunch. Comfortable, but flattering, and cool to wear on a hot day. Am I close?”

Shockingly so. How did he do that?

“So theoretical you and I meet for dinner.”

“I pick you up.” Of course.

“Then what?”

His eyes twinkled. “That’s why I’m asking where that would be.”

“I couldn’t tell you what a single romantic restaurant is in the city. I eat at home or off fast-food dollar menus.”

He frowned in thought, then asked, “Where does Moira like to go?”

“Food trucks. She’s on her longest boyfriend yet because he’s a foodie.”

“A few of them are pretty epic. He introduced her?”

I nodded. “She’s too tired to cook after work, so she’d live off frozen dinners alone.”

Angled toward me, he leaned his head on his arm on the back of the couch. “I do enjoy cooking for more than just me. Mom’s recipes usually feed at least four.”

“Are you a secret dinner party person?”

He tossed his head back and almost rolled off the side of the sofa, laughing harder than I’d seen him before. I grabbed his sweater to stabilize him. He wheezed through his mirth and wiped his eyes. “Oh my God, no. Wow, you really got me.”

My hormones appreciated the visual feast of his neck thrown back, eyes lit up, and face creased with joy. His genuine hilarity was sexy.

Why? How?

I resisted the urge to kiss that smile—for now. Kissing rarely stayed only that with us so far. But then his gaze met mine and my cheeks warmed again.

It’d been so long since I felt the fluttery pitter-patter, almost didn’t recognize it.

I liked him. Not merely his looks and hands and penis, but him. A little more of this and I’d be swooning. It made him the most dangerous man in my life ever.

“So, since you don’t know any real restaurants, what kind would you imagine for a theoretical dinner?” Back to the conversation instead of teasing me.

Thankfully.

I shook my head. “I’m amazed Abby never talked about her endlessly-stubborn son.”

The grin stayed on his face. “Come on. Humor me.”

“Fine…as I said, I’m not fancy, so I don’t want to go to any of those overpriced, pretentious places my mother loved patronizing. I want value for my money. Or yours.”

“Prevent a hangry Michaela. Got it.”

I shook my head at his interruption. “Genre of cuisine doesn’t really matter. I’m not a picky eater. Just don’t make me stand all night and I’ll be happy.”

“But what’s your favorite?”

“I don’t have one.” Anymore.

“Well, I guess that makes it easier to surprise you. What else for a theoretical nice date? Movie? Dancing? Musical theater?”

I chuckled. “Well, I don’t mind musicals, but that’s a long date. Dinner and a show?”

“Bored of me already?”

“No…” I replied softly.

“Good.” He leaned in and kissed me.

I sighed into the connection.

Every touch stirred my libido.

His eyes were dark when we parted. “Let’s go upstairs.”

I yawned. “Good idea.” Knew what he meant, but it was late for me.

He picked up his shoes and jacket and I shut everything off in the theater.

Dropped my soda bottle in the recycling can.

Lights out in the kitchen.

The first floor was dark except for the Christmas decorations on a timer. The soft glow was romantic. “Need to put these away soon,” I said at the base of the stairs.

“Mom’s off tomorrow, so I can stay.” Lincoln slid one hand around my waist.

“Won’t your parents notice you’re not there?”

“Mom already knows.” He cringed.

“What? How?”

“Your bathroom trash can.”

I groaned. “Of course. Rookie mistake. She told you?”

“I was horrified. But she won’t embarrass you. It’s her job to act like her employer’s private stuff doesn’t exist.”

“Thank God for that,” I muttered.

He stroked my hair behind my ear. “For appearances, I have another shirt in the car.”

“Bold. I could tell you to go home right now.”

He pulled me closer. “But you won’t.” Then kissed my neck, nipping the sensitive spot.

I sighed. “As long as you don’t hog the covers.”

I liked the quiet bubble of tonight. It was easier to handle my feelings when it was only us. Slipping out of his hold, I started up the stairs.

In my room, he closed the door and began to undress.

I continued to the bathroom. “I’m going to prep for bed.” And shut myself inside.

My messy hair got secured in a braid so it wouldn’t be a rat’s nest by morning. Moisturized my face, brushed my teeth, etcetera. In one of the drawers was a standard toothbrush wrapped in plastic. For guests. I set it next to the sink.

Finally, I changed into pajamas, then opened the door. “Your turn.”

He’d stripped down to his boxer briefs, clothes folded on the corner chair, and sat on my bed. “Cute.” I wore a dark gray tee and Old Navy black fleece PJ pants. He kissed me on the way by. “Minty.”

“There’s a new toothbrush on the counter.”

He went into the bathroom and I had a minute alone. Was it too far to let him stay the night? One thing to go to bed for sex. Another to sleep. Not that more sex was off the table. But I didn’t have a gym body like his that didn’t get tired. It’d been a long day for me testing muscles that weren’t used to workouts and now lying down was on my mind, I was happy to crawl into bed. But if we weren’t here for sex, then that meant cuddling.

Because Lincoln was pretty affectionate.

I wouldn’t have expected that upon meeting him, but he’d surprised me in so many ways.

The door opened and he was framed there like an underwear model ad. I sucked in a breath. Somehow, I kept forgetting how gorgeous he was. Like I was lulled into a certain level of being used to him, then bam. Hit with the sexy all over again.

He walked around to the left side of the bed. I named the sides when facing the foot. Did everyone? I liked being closest to the door.

He lifted the covers, slid in, and draped his arm around me. Then nuzzled below my ear. “You’re already warm,” he murmured.

“Down comforters are toasty.”

“Toasty enough to get naked?”

I turned my head toward him. “How are you not tired?”

He grinned. “You’ll get used to it.”

“Well, tonight, I still need sleep.”

“Fine, we’ll nap now. As long as I can wake you if I wake first.”

My eyes narrowed. “Wake me how?”

He pecked the tip of my nose. “You’ll see.”

“Linc—”

“Shh. Go to sleep.”

I’d probably regret it, but we settled into spooning, and I drifted off.